


Promise I'm Not Playing Tricks On You

by Miss_Mustache



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abused Lance (Voltron), Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biphobia, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Concerned Shiro (Voltron), F/M, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Homophobic Language, Hurt Lance (Voltron), I love him too much, I would've made Lotor be Lance's bf, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Internalized Homophobia, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), POV Third Person, Physical Abuse, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Supportive Coran (Voltron), They're all pretty concerned though, Uncle Coran (Voltron), Verbal Abuse, also I can't do that to Lotor, but it didn't make sense, but still there, not too bad, still mentioned in others though, you can skip that chapter though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Mustache/pseuds/Miss_Mustache
Summary: Kind of songfic based on Alec Benjamin's Must Have Been the Wind.---Keith just wanted to sleep. He had had an exhausting day at work and just wanted to collapse on his bed. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so, because the apartment above decided to make a ruckus at 2 am. Vowing to give them a piece of his mind, Keith didn't expect to meet a certain blue-eyed boy who he can't get off of his mind - or to fall in love with him. The problem is, he's taken by a girl who he seems head over heels for. Something feels off, though. Lance acts strangely around other people. But it's probably nothing, right? Keith is just jealous of his girlfriend. There's nothing actually wrong, right..?
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	1. New Arrivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, just throwing it out there, I don't know what I'm doing. So uh, have fun with this I guess? I've mapped out 10 chapters already, I think there'll be at least 12, and possibly more if I decide to continue the story. Again, I don't know what I'm doing, first fic woooo. I'm not used to ao3 formatting, send help.

The day started fairly ordinarily for Keith. New neighbours were moving in upstairs, but that seemed to happen every month. Keith gave them a month tops. 

He groaned and rolled around in his duvet, hitting the snooze button with an alarming thud. "I never liked Mondays," He muttered under his breath. Mondays meant that Keith had to go back to work, and that meant he would have to put up with grouchy customers when he was in an even grouchier mood. Still, that wasn't to say he didn't appreciate his job, it had its perks. He had a kind boss who was like an uncle to him, a co-worker he could actually tolerate, and best of all, free coffee. Didn't mean Keith wouldn't complain, though.

Soon, the five minutes passed and the alarm rang back to life, effectively pissing off Keith even more. He hurled himself out of bed and flicked the bedside lamp on, glancing over his room. It wasn't the biggest; he barely managed to fit in his bed, desk and wardrobe, but he had made it work. Black and red clothes were flung around the room, much to Shiro's dismay and scolding, but Keith thought it was easier to find them that way.

Pushing himself onto his feet, he yanked his uniform from the desk chair and pulled it on. It wasn't anything fancy, a simple white shirt and black trousers along with an apron he kept at the shop, but Coran insisted it made the baristas look more professional. He kicked on his red converse and jogged to the kitchen.

"Ah Keith, you're up," Shiro's voice came from behind him. He hummed in response as he made some toast and started the coffee machine. "When you come back from work, we should go meet the new neighbours, introduce ourselves."  
Keith turned around, staring at the older man.  
"Do I really need to explain why that's a terrible idea?"  
"Keith, come on - at least try."  
"No I'm good, thanks. They'll be gone by next month anyway."  
"Keith..." Shiro groaned.  
"I said no," he glanced at the clock as he finished his toast and coffee, "I'm going to be late, anyhow. See you later."

Keith closed the front door behind him, ignoring Shiro's protests. He jogged down the apartment block, hesitant on whether to walk or drive. Eventually, he decided to walk, even though he'd be late. He knew Allura would cover for him. He made his way down the streets, hands in his pockets, the sun in his face. Summer was rapidly approaching along with the glaring heat of Arizona. It didn't bother Keith though, having grown up in Texas before moving with his first pair of foster parents. It had lasted a couple of months, but swiftly ended when Keith started getting into trouble at school, and then he was whisked off to another set of foster parents in another part of the country. He was too high maintenance, apparently.

Soon he reached the coffee shop's street, a peaceful area located between the bustling city and the suburbs. It was an odd enough location, meaning you would enter and see large families on one side and businessmen on the other. One side loud and busy, the other calm and quiet. The two halves felt like different places entirely. There wasn't meant to be a divide; Coran had repeatedly tried to make them mix but to no avail. Keith didn't mind either way. It meant he could choose a side to serve and stick to it. As much as Keith dispised the snooty businessmen looking down on him, young children made him uncomfortable and would point and stare, so he gladly took the business side whilst Allura served the families. 

The shop itself was cosy, with wooden floors and clean white walls that had ivy growing on them. Plants hung from the ceiling and the place had a faint smell of cinnamon and coffee. On one side of the place, there was a large, stone fireplace, surrounded with beanbags. On the opposite side, there was the counter area where people ordered, along with the small kitchen. The tables were scattered around, some with chairs and others with sofas.

Keith snapped himself out of his thoughts and walked into the shop, hearing a faint bell ring. He pulled on his green apron and joined Allura behind the counter.  
"Well, hello to you too," She grumbled.  
He shrugged lightly and leaned back, waiting for more people to enter. There was already a family or two, sitting around the fireplace and a small handful of people grabbing a coffee for work.  
"How about a thank you for covering for you?" She tried again.  
Keith mumbled a quick thanks and closed his eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, a rush of customers coming in the morning and another rush in the afternoon. He took orders, served them, and received the occasional tip. All in all, it was an okay day. The clock soon hit five and the last few customers finally left, leaving Keith and Allura alone. She went to the doors to flick over the open sign, chucking her apron to Keith. He pulled his off and hung them up on the wall. 

"Are you sure you want to do the dishes all alone?" She asked.  
Again, he shrugged lightly. "Least I can do after you covered for me."  
Smiling gently, she thanked him and left the shop, leaving Keith alone. He scrubbed the dishes carefully, relishing in the peace and quiet. He put them to the side to let them dry and checked the time - it was almost six. He quickly made himself and Shiro a drink to go and set off back home after locking up the shop. 

He walked quietly through the streets, in no rush to get home. He knew once he did Shiro would want to try to make him meet the new neighbours again. The walk wasn't long though, and after 15 minutes he was outside his apartment block again. Dragging his way up the stairs, he made it to his apartment and opened the door. _I need to talk to Shiro about leaving the door unlocked_ , he thought to himself. The area wasn't particularly unsafe, but Keith thought it'd be better to be cautious.  
"Shiro?" He called out, "I'm home."  
Making his way through the silent apartment, he spotted Shiro on the couch, asleep. He sighed softly, saving the document he had been working on and closing the laptop. A note had been left on the coffee table, reading:  
Hey! I decided to have dinner early. Some spaghetti's in the microwave.  
\- Shiro :-)

Keith snorted at the smiley face and set the drinks down onto the table. He then went into his room, returning with a bundle of blankets to lay over Shiro. Keith made his way to the kitchen and took the pasta out, stabbing it with a fork. It was cold and damp, but he didn't want to reheat it in case the microwave woke Shiro from what little sleep he got. Sighing, he brought his plate to the sink and left it for tomorrow, too tired to deal with it now. He quickly brushed his teeth, only because he knew Shiro would scold him otherwise, and got into bed without bothering to undress. It would save time tomorrow. His eyes fluttered shut and he dozed. off.

A while later, he was startled awake as a loud crash came from above. _Fucking hell_. He tossed over and tried to sleep again. A couple of minutes later, something big thudded. He glared at the ceiling, trying to get the people above to shut up through pure will. As if answering him, things went silent for a moment, fooling Keith into thinking it was over. Not even a minute later, a crash of glass startled him up. _Fucking drunkies._ If he wasn't awake then, he was now. He growled at the ceiling and marched to the living room. _If they've woken him I'm going to throw hands._ Unfortunately for the neighbours, Shiro was sat up, startled and looking up at the ceiling with concern.  
"I'm going to kill those assholes," Keith growled out, "What the hell are they doing at," He squinted at the clock, "2 am?"  
Shiro quirked an eyebrow at this and rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a weary sigh.  
"They're probably drunk, let's just hope they quiet down and we can get some sleep. We can check what happened in the morning."  
As the noises continued, Keith scowled. "Shiro, I changed my mind. You were right, we should go _greet_ our neighbours tomorrow. We can have a nice and long _talk_ to those motherfuckers."  
"Keith, language."

The sounds carried on for another half hour, and Keith could now hear his next-door neighbours complaining bitterly about the noise. In the apartment across, he could hear a baby crying and a dog barking. Eventually, the sounds stopped, and everything around him went eerily silent. He shared a look with Shiro and heaved back to his room, before collapsing onto the bed _. I'm going to give those fuckers a piece of my mind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was that. Yay? Keith's not very happy, what a shocker. Shiro just wants Keith to not beat up the new neighbours. And don't worry, we get to meet Lance next chapter.
> 
> You know, I was starting to write when Keith went to work, and then quickly realised I had somehow forgotten to pick a location?? So I had to put writing to a halt whilst I figured out what the hell I was doing. So yeah. I hope that was readable? Any feedback is appreciated :3


	2. Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's day is going horribly, and he's just about ready to take it out on anyone he possibly can. And so he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so, Keith cusses a lot this chapter, so bear that in mind. Also, oh my gosh the first chapter has 60+ hits :D
> 
> But yes, enjoy!

The day wasn't starting off great. Keith had gotten less sleep than he would've liked due to _unforeseen circumstances_, and he was fully ready to go and confront those unforeseen circumstances. Unfortunately for him, he had work starting in less than half an hour. At least he wouldn't be late this time. Hurling himself out of bed, he settled for a slightly more complicated breakfast than yesterday - a mug of coffee and some cereal. Shiro, he noted, was asleep on the couch. At least someone was able to get some sleep, he thought bitterly.  
  
He began to wash the dishes, scolding himself for leaving them. The clock on the kitchen wall seemed to tick louder and louder, taunting Keith. Somehow he knew today wouldn't go well for him. It wasn't like he had much said in the matter though, and as tempting as it was, he knew he couldn't exactly skip work. He let out a weary sigh and pulled his shoes on. He hoped that taking a slow walk to work would help him clear his mind.  
  
He couldn't have been more wrong. If anything, the walk had put him in an even worse mood. It had started off fairly warm and sunny, with a few clouds, but it quickly began to rain and Keith was stuck without an umbrella. To make matters worse, someone had knocked into him and spilt their drink all over him. So all in all, a pretty crap start. He was glad when he could finally see the front of the shop coming into view.  
  
He pulled open the door, brushing damp hair out of his eyes.  
"Keith, you're here on time!" Allura called out, happily. She paused briefly when she saw the state he was in. "What happened to you?" The disgust in her voice was evident as she glanced over his coffee-stained shirt. "Coran's going to have a fit if he sees you like that."  
"You think I don't know that?" Keith huffed, grabbing his apron and attempting to cover up the glaring stain. It worked, somewhat. The worst of it was covered up, and you could only see the small splatters if you were actively looking for them. They both sighed, clearly relieved.  
"Wonderful, now you take register duty and I'll make the drinks."  
  
Keith groaned but didn't complain. Not verbally at least. So, he reluctantly went to the cash register and leaned against the counter, waiting for the first bundle of customers to arrive. As the clock struck eight, a small group of customers came in. It consisted of a small handful of men, all dressed in business suits. They all looked clean and polished, and Keith couldn't help but glance down at himself. He wasn't usually a very self-conscious person, but when it came to people who clearly had their life together, he couldn't help but feel a bit awkward.   
  
They talked politely among themselves as they approached the counter. The first guy ordered a simple black coffee, and it was ready within minutes. Keith looked expectantly to the next man in the queue. He seemed to be in his mid-forties and had brown eyes with bushy brows. He had short, dark brown hair that had been slicked back with gel and he had slight stubble growing. His mouth seemed set in a permanent smirk and he had a smug aura around him. Keith hated him already. Stopping his examination of the group, he plastered on the fakest, most cheerful grin he could muster and greeted the customers.  
"Hi! Welcome to Altea Coffee! What can I get you today?" He chirped.  
The guy glanced at Keith quickly, before promptly ignoring him and going back to talking to the people who were presumably his colleagues.  
"Hello?" He could feel his patience starting to drain, but they kept on ignoring him. His eye twitched, but he refused to give in so easily, and he kept smiling whilst waiting for them to order. Eventually, the group seemed to come to a decision and began to speak, but not to him.  
"Hey gorgeous," the man winked at Allura, "Can I get," he paused, "a tall, non-fat latte, a cinnamon roll, oh, and your number."  
"I'm sorry, sir, we're out of cinnamon rolls at the moment, can I get you anything else?" Keith tried, feeling his mask starting to slip.  
"Yes well, I want a cinnamon roll. And I wasn't talking to you. "  
Keith groaned, louder than intended as the group turned to look at him. The man who ordered shot him a dirty look.  
"Is there a problem?"  
At this point, Keith's patience was gone, and he ignored Allura as she shot him a pleading look to stay quiet.  
"Actually, yes, there is. First of all, we don't have any cinnamon rolls left, is that too hard to understand? Secondly, ignoring people is rude, and lastly, do you have to be an absolute jackass about everything? Fucking hell. "  
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, and the group's expression began to darken. Oops.  
"What did you just say to me? Do you know who I am? "  
"I can't say I do."   
One of the men scoffed, and Allura was glaring daggers into the back of Keith's head.  
"I refuse to come to a shop where I'm treated so disrespectfully. We're leaving, and we're not coming back, " One of the men snapped at Keith. Quite frankly, Keith would be more than pleased if he never had to see them again.  
He plastered his fake smile back on. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" He called cheerfully. That seemed to be the breaking point, and the man who had managed to be served took the lid off of his drink and chucked it onto Keith.  
"Wow, very professional," he called out to the retreating group.  
  
Allura sighed, scolding him for arguing with the group, and sent him to the back to get dried off and change if possible. The employee's room wasn't very big and was cheaply done unlike the rest of the shop. The walls were coated in chipping white paint, and the floor was the tiles that had been there since the previous owner. A used, red couch took up one of the walls, and the rest of the room was filled with shelves holding supplies.  
  
Keith peeled off his coffee-soaked shirt and sunk into the couch, groaning. Two coffees on him in one day, that had to be a record for him, and it wasn't even nine yet. The day seemed to be getting worse by the minute and he felt like a couple more coffees would be chucked by the end of it. Still, he knew he didn't have much of a choice and would have to get back to work soon. The lack of a shirt was a bit of an issue, though. He glanced around the room and noticed a coat Coran must've left on the couch a while back. It wasn't ideal, but it was all he had. He pulled it on and started contemplating if he should just stay in the room till it was late and nobody could see him. The coat was bright orange, with white fluff bordering the hood. Coran was tall, meaning the coat reached Keith's knees and the sleeves had to be rolled up and looked incredibly puffy. It was either this, or going out shirtless, and he was seriously contemplating the latter.  
  
He eventually left the employee room to join Allura again and take over the drink-making duties. It was probably for the best if he didn't interact with any customers for the rest of the day. It also meant he could face the wall and avoid staring. And so, the day continued mostly fine, ignoring the snide remarks that made Keith blush furiously. The time was nearly 16:45 and no customers had come in for a while, the last of them having left a few minutes ago. Keith sighed, relieved. He didn't particularly want to go home late today, and so he began washing up early. He washed all of the equipment, knowing he'd likely have to rewash them if someone came in, but it'd only be one or two things, it'd be fine.   
  
Funnily enough, it was not fine. A group of teenagers came in at 16:58, two minutes before closing time. He could hear the tiredness in Allura's voice as she 'happily' asked what she could get them. What proceeded was one of the most obnoxious orders Keith had ever heard. Tall, double pump caramel, two packets of extra sugar, three pumps-. Keith zoned out. _This isn't a Starbucks._ He caught onto small fragments of the orders, and whilst he didn't understand half of what they were saying, he knew he would have to use basically all of the equipment they had, meaning the washing up was for nothing and he'd be working later than usual. Allura passed him the notepad with the orders, and he set off to work. _It's common fucking decency to not come in a minute before closing,_ Keith scowled as he spun around the machines and trying to work as quickly as possible. If he missed a couple of pumps or put too many, no one noticed, which was probably for the best as he felt ready to rip someone's head off.   
  
Finally, the drinks were prepared and served, but Allura hadn't wanted to kick them out so they lounged a bit in the shop. Eventually, they left, though. He glanced at the clock, 5:28. _Fucks sake._ He and Allura had gotten a small start on the washing up whilst the teens drank, but they still had a fair bit to go. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Keith was ready to rip the clock off the wall. He kept calm, though, and had eventually managed to scrub through his pile. Allura was still cleaning, so he knew he wouldn't have to lock up at least. He slid through the employee's door and yanked off the bright orange coat. He couldn't exactly take it home, as it was Coran's. There was also the fact that Keith refused to leave the shop wearing something so horrendous, but he wouldn't tell Coran that, it would break his heart. Unfortunately, that meant he would have to wear his coffee-soaked shirt back home, with no apron to feebly attempt to hide any of it. It could be worse, he mused, at least it was dry now.  
  
And so, Keith set off back home, jogging at points to try to get home quicker. When he finally got home, it was past six.  
"Hey Keith," Shiro said, back to Keith. He finally turned around and startled at his shirt, "Woah, what happened there? "  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
"Okay, okay," Shiro raised his hands in surrender, "but get changed, we're going to go see the neighbours."   
  
Keith growled, ready to argue about why he wouldn't do it before he remembered what had happened the previous night. _If you_ _think about it, this day started off horribly due to them, so in a way, this is their fault_ _,_ he rationalised. Of course, he knew it wasn't fair to blame them for all of it; they weren't responsible for the coffee or the rude customers, but at the same time he desperately wanted someone to blame, and so he did. It was also a good way to get out some pent up anger from the day, and it'd be okay because it wasn't like it mattered. He'd be able to yell it out, the drunkards would probably cuss back, they'd realise they hate each other and then they'd never cross paths again. It was fine.  
  
He pulled off his shirt and trousers and threw them into the washing machine, replacing them with a black hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans.  
"Right, Shiro, let's go."  
Shiro paused, clearly noticing the younger boy's mood and wanting to warn him against doing anything brash, but Keith just ignored him and started up the stairs. Noticing that Shiro was now trailing after him, he picked up his pace till he reached the apartment that was right above their own. He kept his hands in his hoodie pockets, watching as Shiro gently knocked against the door. Scurrying came from inside, as someone seemed to frantically move around the room. The noises stopped, but the door still didn't open. They waited a couple more moments before Keith balled his fist up and banged it on the door.  
"I can hear you in there, open the damn door," He growled out, his voice just loud enough to be heard from wherever the person inside the apartment was. Shiro shot him a look. The scurrying continued for a moment before the door was gently pulled open, a face peeking around the side.  
"Hi, my name's Shiro and this-"  
"Hey man, what the actual fuck, who the fuck do you think you are? Do you really think it's okay to priss around at two in the morning and keep everyone else up? You're not the only fucking people here, Jesus Christ. Who do you think you are? "  
"Keith, cut it-"  
"No, I won't, because apparently, some people don't know basic fucking decency. You probably think you're so much better than everyone else here, and that you can do whatever the fuck you want. News flash, you can't douchebag. "  
"Keith, calm-"  
"Do you know how shit of a day I've had because of you? I've been exhausted all fucking day, because some people don't know when to shut up, and you know what? I'm really fucking sick of-"  
"Keith!" Shiro yelled at him.  
  
A sudden flinch caught him off guard, and he looked over the boy cowering by the door. This was probably a bad time to check out someone, but he couldn't help it, _the boy was really fucking pretty._ He had a mop of curly, brown hair hanging in front of his eyes, which were a gorgeous, deep blue. Dark freckles were scattered across his nose, and he had darkly tanned skin. A large grey hoodie covered him, making him look small when in reality he was taller than Keith by an inch or two. He was staring down at the floor, shaking slightly, and Keith felt a pang of guilt.  
"Oh uh, hey man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you."  
The boy looked up, shocking Keith with just how blue his eyes were, and he smiled. It didn't quite meet his eyes.  
"It's okay, I'm sorry I bothered you."  
Shiro, in the meantime, was critically looking over the apartment through the doorway, narrowing his eyes at things Keith couldn't quite see. Shiro turned his gaze to the boy and Keith watched as he squirmed under the attention.  
"Why is your apartment in such a mess?" Shiro asked the boy, his tone soft.   
"Ah, I'm sorry. Moving in is just a bit messy... " He didn't see what things being shattered in the apartment had anything to do with moving, but the boy had finally stopped shaking so Keith chose not to comment on it. He hummed in response instead.  
  
Silence washed over them. Keith watched as Shiro examined the apartment and the boy again, more discreetly this time. The other continued to shuffle uncomfortably. Deciding he had had enough of analysing, Shiro cleared his throat.  
"Oh, where are my manners? My name's Shiro and this is Keith."  
"..."  
"What's your name?"  
"Lance.."  
So the boy's name was Lance. _It suits him._ Keith was also relieved that he wouldn't have to keep referring to him as 'the boy.'  
  
Another awkward silence ensued, but Shiro wasn't the type to give up.  
"So, Lance, do you live here alone?"  
Lance paused for a moment, considering his options. "I live here with my girlfriend." As he said this, he took a small step back into the apartment and looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. It was nearly seven. Seeming to realise this, Lance's eyes widened and he cursed softly, quietly enough that Keith and Shiro had barely heard it.  
"Ah, I'm sorry, but I've got to go, like right now. Please go quickly."It was the most Keith had heard him say at a time, and it sounded desperate, pleading almost. Keith nodded and waved slightly at the boy. He turned around with Shiro, and they began to head back to their apartment, hearing Lance's door shut softly.  
Keith looked up at Shiro, "That was weird," he laughed. Shiro didn't respond, though, and his brows furrowed together. "He said sorry a lot, didn't he?" he tried again, but Shiro still didn't respond. The walk back to the apartment was in silence, leaving Keith to think about a certain blue-eyed boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being much longer than the other chapter, but oh well. It's weird though because I mapped out a lot less for this chapter than the other. Oh well. Also, who let Keith work with customers?
> 
> I'll try to update every 2 days but don't hold me to it.
> 
> AO3 might hate me because I've had to spend half an hour removing the weird spaces that were added in :')


	3. Black Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets a new regular at the coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I make an uploading schedule and then I immediately stop following it. I'm sorry this is a couple of days late.

A horrible feeling of guilt followed Keith since his encounter with Lance. He knew that he shouldn't have exploded like that, but he had been so desperate to be able to get out his pent-up frustrations that he hadn't thought through what he was saying at all. The way Lance had looked at him and Shiro, especially after Shiro yelled. Something was off. He had seemed scared, and that didn't sit well with Keith. Still, he didn't think there was anything he could do, and he wasn't even certain if something was wrong. Lance might've just been a jumpy person naturally. Yeah, that was probably it.  
  
And so, Keith continued with his morning. Today was a Wednesday, meaning the coffee shop opened an hour later than usual. He wasn't exactly sure why, but Coran wanted it that way. At least he got to sleep in. Finishing his daily routine, he lounged on the couch till it was eventually time to leave.  
  
As he made his way to work, he gave himself a mental pat on the back for walking three days in a row. Usually, he was lazier than that and would end up driving most days. The walk passed quickly; Keith blasting music through his earphones and zoning out the entire way there. He mostly thought of Lance. After assuring himself that nothing was going on, he couldn't help but think about how pretty the boy was. Keith wanted to count his freckles. The thoughts quickly vanished, though, as he remembered Lance saying he lived with his girlfriend. Why were all the pretty ones either taken or straight? Or in this case, both?  
  
Apparently, thinking about Lance made him walk slower, as he only made it to work with a minute to spare. Allura glared at him, but he wasn't technically late so she couldn't say anything.  
  
The first batch of customers came in, and Keith patiently took their orders whilst Allura started the drinks. Luckily for everyone, he was in a better mood than yesterday. Once the orders were taken, he joined Allura with making the drinks and putting the cakes onto a plate. He started on a hot chocolate, though why anyone would order hot chocolate in this heat was beyond him. Halfway through, the door chime went off.  
"I'll be with you in a minute," He called out.  
Pushing all the food and drinks onto a tray, Allura carried it over to the customers. He turned towards the new customer and-  
Keith's breath hitched. It was him. If Keith thought Lance looked pretty yesterday, today was on a whole other level. Lance was wearing tight-fitting jeans that seemed to hug the curves of his legs. A grey shirt peeked out from underneath the beige jacket he was wearing, though it did nothing to stop Keith from noticing his muscles. _Bad Keith, don't ogle people who are taken,_ he scolded.  
  
Lance tilted his head slightly, looking curiously at Keith. A furious blush came over him as he realised Lance had seen him staring.   
"Hi, what can I get you?" He choked out.  
Lance paused for a moment, biting his lip slightly. "A black coffee please." He quickly passed over the money.  
Barely hearing what he had said, Keith grinned at him and set off to make the drink.   
No one else was coming in, so as the drink brewed, Keith leaned against the counter and looked up at Lance.  
"How are you?"  
Lance looked around for a moment, before realising Keith was in fact talking to him.  
"Oh, uh, I'm alright..." He trailed off and stared at his feet.  
  
The coffee was quickly finished, and Lance left without another word. Keith had to admit, he was disappointed. He had wanted to talk to him more.  
  
Much to Keith's enjoyment, though, it quickly became a trend. Day after day, without fail, Lance would come to the coffee shop at around 9:30. Each day Keith would try starting up a conversation. He wasn't usually a very social person, but when it came to having someone so much more awkward than him, he suddenly became the most confident person in holding conversations. Day by day, Keith learnt a little bit more about the blue-eyed boy: his favourite colour was blue, his favourite food was anything made by his mama, he had a dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. Though, that last one was from Keith ogling the boy, rather than him being told it.  
  
If he was being honest, it became his favourite part of the job. All he really wanted to do was spend time with Lance now. He knew it was morally wrong to start crushing on someone who was taken, but he really couldn't help it. It wasn't exactly intentional to like someone who was taken. Everything Lance did seemed to make him fall more and more head over heels. It was all the little things, like the way Lance scrunched his nose up at the overwhelming smell of coffee, or the way he stuck his tongue out as he counted out the coins. It was all so, so endearing.  
  
One time, Keith had been drinking water and Lance had come in. He wasn't wearing anything special, but his hair was all curly and he was wearing a baggy jumper. Lance had looked around the shop and when he saw Keith, he winked playfully. The wink had then been following by many apologies, as it had made Keith snort the water from his nose.  
  
Another time Lance had come, someone spilt their drink onto him. Much to Keith's relief, it had been a cold drink, so it had only stained his clothes and hadn't burnt him. Since the incident a while ago, Keith had started keeping a spare change of clothes in the employee room. So, Keith brought Lance round back and lent him his clothes, telling him he could easily return them to his apartment when he was done with them. Keith had gone back to the front to give Lance some privacy, and he waited for new customers. It would be a lie to say Keith didn't freeze at the sight of Lance in his clothes. They were a little bit small on him, and yet they managed to look like they were made for him. Needless to say, he dreamt of Lance working at the coffee shop with him that night.  
  
Then, one morning, Lance arrived a lot earlier than usual. Keith quirked an eyebrow at the boy, and he began to explain.  
"I was done with my jobs earlier than usual and wanted to come earlier."  
Keith nodded and continued fiddling with the cash register. At this point, Keith knew Lance always got a black coffee, and he could have easily made it in advance, but that would mean he'd get to spend less time with him.   
"You must really love black coffee," he hummed as he began making the drink.  
Lance blinked at this, "Oh, actually, I kind of hate coffee," he sheepishly admitted.  
Keith paused for a moment. "But you always get it?"  
"It's for my girlfriend."  
Oh right, Lance has a girlfriend.  
"Why don't you ever get yourself anything?"  
"Oh no, I couldn't."  
This puzzled him a little, but he didn't push. He hummed, looking up at Lance.  
"How about I buy you something?"  
Lance froze for a moment. Keith thought he looked like a deer caught in headlights, it was ridiculously cute.  
"I couldn't..."  
Keith ignored this. "What do you want to get?"  
Lance bit his lip, scanning the menu boards. He scrunched his nose a little and looked at the cooler with the cold drinks. After a bit of hesitation, he reached out and picked up a juice box. Keith smiled at this and tried not to blush at how hopelessly adorable it was.   
  
They chatted for a while after about mundane things like the weather or their weekend plans. Keith couldn't bring himself to mind though - he was happy to be able to spend any time with Lance. The boy in question had been sipping on his juice box for the past fifteen minutes, how he made it last so long, Keith didn't know. It was a rare stroke of luck; there hadn't been any new customers, allowing Keith to spend as much time as he wanted with Lance. The boy had started humming a song Keith didn't recognise, but he didn't mind. He leaned his cheek against his palm and sighed happily, looking up at Lance.  
"What song is that?"  
"Oh, it's a Spanish song. You probably wouldn't know it. "  
Keith scoffed in his head. Of course, he spoke Spanish; it wasn't like he was already really attractive. Still, Keith kept his thoughts to himself in favour of listening to Lance hum, because wow, that boy had some talent.   
  
The doorbell chimed, and Keith held back a sigh as Lance went back to the table they had been sitting at earlier. The girl ordered herbal tea and sat down at her table. Keith gave the order to Allura and watched as Lance walked back up to the counter. He gave Keith an effortless smile before looking up at the clock behind him.  
"Oh, it's nearly 9:30," he commented.  
Keith glanced at the clock and then back at Lance, "Oh, actually that clock is like an hour behind. "  
Lance paled at this, eyes widening by the second.  
"Lance? What's up? "  
"I, I have to," he stuttered out, "I have to go."  
As soon as he finished his sentence, Lance ran out of the shop, not sparing a glance back at Keith who was now frozen in shock. Had he done something wrong? He knew Lance always left before 9:45, but he hadn't said anything so he assumed today he had some spare time. Keith couldn't get the look Lance had out of his mind. It wasn't a look Keith ever wanted Lance to have again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith's worried, lol


End file.
